Learning How
by Gumnut
Summary: This series branches out from KR canon at the end of Season 4. No TKR and definitely no KR2000 The years covered are likely to be 19872003 and despite the title, are planned to be serious fics. Each chapter is a complete fic within itself.


Learning How  
KR Nuttiverse Story Number 1.  
By Gumnut 26 Jul - 1st Aug 2004  
  
It was incidental. A chance encounter, or lack of encounter, really, that led him to find out the secret. To be honest, he had no idea why it was a secret in the first place, but he respected his driver's wishes, in the beginning, and said nothing.  
  
But only in the beginning.  
  
------------------  
  
Kitt was bored.  
  
This was not a new experience for the highly active AI, but annoying nonetheless. Michael had been injured on their last assignment, and they had been grounded for several weeks. Fortunately his driver's injuries were not severe, a simple broken leg, a concussion, and some bruising, he would be fine, eventually, but in the meantime Kitt was left with little or nothing to do but sit in the garage and stare at the walls.  
  
Bonnie had run him through his paces in the first week, testing this, testing that, but with the exception of a small amount of wiring damage incurred in that same last mission, everything had been up to par, and soon she ran out of things to test. He had hoped that she might have some new gadget to add to his already extensive repertoire, but unfortunately nothing was yet through the full development stage, and unless he felt like attaching something to himself that might explode on the off chance he looked at it the wrong way, Bonnie's answer was 'No, nothing new was available'.  
  
So here he was, sitting.  
  
He was surprised that Michael hadn't suggested they go on a little driving holiday in the meantime. It wasn't like he actually needed to drive the car. Kitt had already spoken to the doctor regarding Michael's condition - Doctor Alpert was finally getting used to his computer suddenly being ransacked by the visiting AI, and no longer fell off his chair each time his computer was possessed by the curious electronic entity. Michael was mobile, a couple of crutches his constant companions, but mobile, and in any case, Kitt considered himself fully capable of looking after the needs of his driver.  
  
Even if it did involve a steady stream of junk food and outlandish music.  
  
But Michael hadn't suggested it, hadn't even hinted at what should be by this time, a wall climbing boredom for his driver. Kitt almost hated to admit it, but this was something the two of them shared in common, though usually Michael more than he. They had to be out and about doing stuff.  
  
Not sitting in a garage staring at the walls, and counting how many rivets held the sheet metal on to the framework of the building.  
  
Sigh.  
  
He had to admit to having just about had it.  
  
Where was Michael anyway?  
  
Maybe he could suggest a driving holiday himself.  
  
He flicked a scan around the buildings, easily locating the familiar comlink signal up in Michael's bedroom. Out of habit he activated the vital signs monitor, expecting a copy of the stats he had received a couple of hours earlier.  
  
He was rather surprised when he didn't receive any at all.  
  
What?  
  
He intensified his interrogation, this time using his long range scanners to confirm the existence of his driver in the room.  
  
He came up blank.  
  
Michael wasn't wearing his comlink. It was sitting on his bedside table. And Michael was nowhere to be found.  
  
What the? Michael never took off his comlink. The man went to bed with the thing, showered, had to have it pried from his injured body in the hospital with a jackhammer.  
  
Kitt's circuits upped their beat a notch, and he combed the grounds for any sign of his driver. Still no sign. Michael rarely, if at all left without him, and even if he did, he always dropped by for a moment to let Kitt know where he was going. The AI had a tendency to take his mission in life to some extreme, and Michael, being the object of that mission, knew he was inclined to worry.  
  
That and the fact that the few times his driver had done the disappearing act on him had ended up resulting in some rather embarrassing moments for the both of them. Michael had learnt the hard way to let his partner know where he was...or be hunted down.  
  
Consequently, Michael hadn't pulled a disappearing act on him in years.  
  
Conclusion? Something must be wrong.  
  
He was on the verge of contacting Devon and Bonnie when a stray signal caught his eye. There, right at the edge of his scanner range, a fleeting biorhythm signal. It flickered, travelling away from him.  
  
Michael.  
  
Kitt started his engine. His driver was not on the grounds, he was in a vehicle several streets away. Why would he leave the sanctity of the Foundation grounds without his comlink? Had he left voluntarily? Michael was the target of many people of ill intention; it was entirely possible he hadn't. Would Bonnie or Devon know?  
  
He briefly considered asking one or both of them, but he realised belatedly that tonight was the night of the secondary fundraiser, and both of them were slated to attend. Another quick interrogation of the grounds proved his calculation, they were nowhere to be found either. Talk about feeling deserted.  
  
He vaguely wondered if that was also where Michael maybe headed, but it didn't take too many bytes of RAM to dismiss that out of hand. The chances of his driver attending one of those black tie affairs voluntarily while hale and healthy were infinitesimal. While he was on crutches? Yeah, right.  
  
Decision made, he activated the remote for the garage doors and silently glided out onto the driveway, coasting the length of it. Quickly scribbling an electronic note to Bonnie as to his whereabouts, he left it on the FLAGnet mainframe, flicking on his homing beacon for their peace of mind should they return before him, and made his way through the main gates, flashing a headlight at the guards who let him through.  
  
------------------  
  
He found Michael in a taxi five blocks away travelling south.  
  
He seemed to be quite happy to be going where he was going, not a single adversary in sight, and it left Kitt feeling just a little bereft. Where was Michael going?  
  
He double checked his long term memory and still found no reference to any outing mentioned by Michael, and Kitt was stuck somewhere between concern and curiosity. He kept the Trans Am well out of sight, unwilling to be caught snooping after his driver, yet as equally unwilling to let him wander off alone.  
  
He blamed it on his programming.  
  
But somehow he didn't really believe the excuse.  
  
He didn't have far to go. The taxi only travelled a few more blocks before pulling up in front of a large building. Michael clambered out of the car, paid the driver, and entered through a pair of glass sliding doors.  
  
Kitt pulled over to the side of the road out of direct line of sight and relied on his scanners to track his driver.  
  
Michael hobbled into a lift and was propelled up two floors, Kitt then tracked him crutching his way down a long corridor until he came to a room with several other people already inside. His driver took a seat in front of a computer, much like the rest of the persons in the room. Shortly thereafter he started to type.  
  
His scanners tracked Michael's movements, but what exactly he was doing, Kitt was unable to determine. The only way he would be able to find out would be to interface with the computer itself.  
  
He hesitated. This was obviously something Michael hadn't told him, probably for a reason. What right did he have to snoop around? There was obviously no danger to Michael's life, what business was it of his?  
  
The AI fought with himself. His programming didn't really forbid him his curiosity, but his conscience did.  
  
But what was Michael doing?  
  
As a secondary objective he interfaced with the nearest mainframe to Michael, perhaps he could find out with out directly invading Michael's privacy.  
  
It was a fine line of distinction, but Kitt chose to ignore the bytes of accusing memory that were harassing him.  
  
Besides all trepidation went out the window the moment Kitt discovered exactly what the building was for.  
  
Michael was attending a college. An educational institute devoted to computer technology. Kitt ran his virtual eyes down the list of courses available. From basic to highly advanced, from programming to technical maintenance. What was he doing here? Michael had no interest in computer technology beyond a game of Pacman. In fact, he was the first to admit his knowledge deficit in that area.  
  
Kitt dove into the enrolments files searching for Michael's name and came up with two results. His eyes widened as he came across Electronics Maintenance and Computer Maintenance, Michael was enrolled for both, the latter apparently the course he was attending at the moment.  
  
Kitt dove in further searching for course results. Again he hit pay dirt. Michael had passed, decently, both Computer Systems Basics and Basic Programming the previous term.  
  
If Kitt had been human, his jaw would have dropped. But if Kitt had been human, he wouldn't have seen these files.  
  
Tracing the network, Kitt made his way to the workstation Michael was working on. He hid a tendril of himself in the terminal's processor, scanning its activity, but preventing his presence from interfering with the speed of the machine. He glanced at the information flowing back and forth.  
  
Questions and answers.  
  
Michael was taking an exam.  
  
Shock finally overtook Kitt and he backed out of the system and returned to his own processor a confused collection of electronic thought.  
  
Why hadn't Michael told him?  
  
-------------------  
  
Kitt made his way back to the garage, his mind a murky mess of questions without answers. He berated himself as to his reaction. What right did he have to concern himself with what Michael did in his time off? It was really none of his business.  
  
But part of him was hurt that Michael didn't trust him enough to tell him about something that Kitt felt he would be able to help his driver with. Computers and electronics were Kitt's forte. Michael had his own strengths, he wasn't required to learn the intricacies of technology. Kitt knew he would be having difficulty with the learning, and as he skimmed through the files he had conveniently copied from the college mainframe, he came across notes written by lecturers, Michael's assignments, his grades, and an obvious illustration of the man's determination and struggle to understand. Michael was not finding it easy, but that hadn't stopped him from attaining a passing grade.  
  
According to these records, Michael had been studying for the past six months. How had he managed it in between cases, several of which had been emotionally devastating for his very human and sensitive driver, Kitt didn't know. And to top it all off he had managed to do it all without Kitt's knowledge.  
  
Kitt emitted a worried sigh.  
  
Now he didn't know whether he should say something or not. He could help Michael. But obviously Michael didn't want his help. He shouldn't say anything. It wasn't his business. The arguments went round and around in his processor, caught in indecision.  
  
He became so immersed in his self-discussion, he nearly jumped out of his shell when Michael walked into the garage later that night.  
  
"Kitt? You okay?"  
  
"Yes, Michael." He scanned his driver. His health seemed fine, his leg bone was mending nicely. His blood pressure was up a little, but that was understandable considering what he had been doing earlier. "How are you?"  
  
Michael smiled. "As if you didn't already know."  
  
"Despite your rather blind belief in my capabilities, Michael, there are some things that I can not do. Reading your mind is one of them."  
  
He chuckled. "As if that is an ability you'd want."  
  
"Believe me, Michael, there are times where it would make my life so much easier." He put humour into his voice, but the statement was essentially true. He repeated his question. "How are you?"  
  
"I'm a little tired, but that is to be expected."  
  
Kitt resisted the urge to ask him where he had been. It was none of his business. None of his business. "So what brings you out here?" It was a fair way from the house to the garage, particularly on crutches.  
  
"You, of course, my friend. Came to see how bored you were."  
  
If Michael had asked that question a couple hours earlier the answer would have been predictable. Now... "I am doing well. Bonnie has given me some new software to play with, plus a new literature download. Listen, have you ever read..." He grabbed for a title out of his fiction library. "...Dragonflight, by Anne McCaffrey?" The AI frowned at the novel. Come to think of it, he hadn't either. Looked interesting, too.  
  
"Ah, no, I can't say I have. Say. Pal, could I have a seat?"  
  
Kitt virtually blinked. What had he been thinking? His driver was still ill and he'd left him standing on a pair of crutches in the middle of his garage. He flicked open his door so fast, it shook on its hinges.  
  
"You sure you're okay, buddy? You seem a little distracted." Michael eased himself into his seat, lifting the plaster-moulded leg with one hand.  
  
"I'm fine." He said it a little too fast, and he knew the bluff was blown.  
  
"What's wrong, Kitt?"  
  
He couldn't tell him. He'd invaded his privacy, betrayed his trust. Even though his curiosity was burning circuits, he couldn't. So he said nothing.  
  
"Is all your damage repaired?"  
  
Now that was an odd question. Michael knew Bonnie had repaired Kitt first thing, a couple of weeks ago. Doctor Alpert had been most annoyed when his patient had clambered out of his sick bed and managed to stumble out to the garage just to check on Kitt.  
  
Kitt himself had been distressed to find Michael stumbling towards him and had yelled for Bonnie. His driver hadn't yet fully recovered from his concussion at the time and had been seriously shaky on his feet. Bonnie had only managed to slow his collapse to the floor, after she came running into the garage, his weight too much for her.  
  
Michael had called Kitt's name several times, obviously disorientated. Kitt had driven as close as he could, and his driver had reached up to touch him, moments before the medical cavalry had arrived. Bonnie had clung to him repeating over and over that Kitt was fine. He was fixed, nothing was wrong with him. But worry still creased Michael's forehead.  
  
His driver had returned several days after that, much more recovered, and Bonnie had recounted all the repairs that Kitt had needed, and reassured the man that Kitt was fine. No permanent damage had been done.  
  
"Yes, Michael, as I said, I am fine. The damage was repaired without fault, as always."  
  
"Good." Michael was silent for a moment, and he lifted a hand and rubbed it across the dash, his eyes lost in thought. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you, Kitt." Michael dropped his hand back into his lap, suddenly finding both hands completely fascinating, his concentration pinned by them.  
  
"Help me?" Kitt was confused. "You did everything you could."  
  
Michael sighed, looking up at nothing in particular. "Exactly."  
  
Suddenly everything slid into place. Kitt was shocked into silence.  
  
The mission had been a fairly simple one, but a chance encounter with an electric fence had short-circuited a few of Kitt's minor systems. His shielding had been compromised moments before during a firefight that involved the bad guys throwing missiles at him. The fence had been the last straw. The shock had fried his voice box circuits before he could funnel off the charge.  
  
For several hours afterwards, he had been unable to speak. It had been unnerving, but he still had his receiving audio and video systems so he had communication capability.  
  
It had unnerved Michael far more so than he.  
  
Michael had contacted the Foundation semi within moments of completing the case and handing over the culprits to the nearest law enforcement agency, but had then buried himself under Kitt's hood desperately attempting to fix the problem. Kitt had pleaded with him to rest, attempting to use his anaharmonic synthesizer to speak. His driver had been standing on one leg, body leaning over Kitt's engine compartment, and the AI knew before Michael started that the repairs were beyond his capability. And the concussion...  
  
It hadn't stopped him from trying.  
  
It had taken the arrival of Bonnie, Devon, and an ambulance to pry him off his partner.  
  
Kitt gazed up at his driver through his internal visual circuits. What had he done to deserve this devotion? Michael was forcing himself to learn computer electronics in order to help his partner when he was injured. The AI berated himself for not realising it immediately. He had been so busy being betrayed, he'd been blind.  
  
Oh, Michael.  
  
"Kitt? You sure you're okay? You're awfully quiet tonight."  
  
"I am perfectly well, Michael." And this time he wasn't lying.  
  
"So boredom not getting to you?"  
  
"I'm managing quite well. I'm assisting Devon with the Annual Financial Review." He wasn't, but tomorrow he would be volunteering. It was mundane and something he hated, but it was also something that could occupy his time. Some things were more important than whether he liked it or not. "And as I said earlier, I have some interesting reading to look forward too." His secondary systems had grabbed that McCaffrey novel and skimmed the summary. It now looked very interesting. "How about you?"  
  
"Pretty much the same. I'm managing." The somewhat pale facial expression said so much more.  
  
"Michael, it was not your fault."  
  
His driver didn't answer immediately, silent, before whispering quietly. "Kitt, you are so very important to me."  
  
"And you to me, Michael."  
  
"If I lost you.....I don't know what I would do."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere."  
  
Michael smiled slightly. "Let's hope so, Pal." He sighed, the pensive moment snapping. "Okay, time for me to wander back to my room before the medical constabulary start a search for me."  
  
He opened the door and staggered rather ungracefully to his feet, grabbing his crutches.  
  
"I could drive you..."  
  
"No, Kitt, I'll be fine, I need the exercise."  
  
Kitt seriously doubted that last statement, but he let him go nonetheless, watching the centre of his world leave the garage, the sound of his wooden crutches on concrete fading off into the distance.  
  
Michael was sending himself to college to learn how to help his partner in times of crisis. Kitt felt so honoured. He briefly wondered if Bonnie knew about this, but a character assessment of his driver led him to doubt it. Michael was hiding his efforts from all of them, it was almost guaranteed. It suddenly occurred to Kitt exactly how many 'dates' his driver had been out on during the last six months, and the sudden lack of women that had accompanied those dates in comparison to similar ventures in the past.  
  
How had he missed the discrepancies? Had he been taking his driver for granted? Assuming he would be who he was, and only what he was, for the rest of his life? An unalterable constant?  
  
The AI shook himself, still stunned at Michael's efforts.  
  
He would never under estimate his driver again.  
----------------  
FIN. 


End file.
